Find me across the yard in the early hours Or at the end of a mountain drink You shouldn't have to use all your powers Just give these clues a think

Brush my teeth with grease and oil, not water and paste Put me with my brethren; teeth touching, a few at a time, to move giants We grind our teeth endlessly, so your machines may live

I curl in the sun, yet I may scratch with glee, I chase tails and shadows, nimble as can be. I may be on your screen or in your lap, soft and sly, perhaps taking a nap.

Cloven, clever piper, Eponym to freezing shock, A name long cast in iron, Fits well among the flock

A biological elevator, its passengers water and sugar. Or a category for the maths and sciences.